


Morty's mind blowers

by rotg5311



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Baby Morty Smith, Caring Rick, Fluff, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Protective Rick, Stolen Memories, character leaving, morty's mind blowers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:21:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotg5311/pseuds/rotg5311
Summary: Morty accidentally finds a memory tube hidden away in Rick's bedroom. What could possibly be on it that Rick would need to hide from him? With Rick gone for the day, now seems like a pretty good time to find out the contents of that pink mystery tube.
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Morty Smith
Comments: 18
Kudos: 263





	1. The tube

The tube stared menacingly back at Morty. Finding it had been an accident, but then again a lot of the things Morty did were unintentional. Still, that didn’t stop him from standing there contemplating his options. He could close the tiny box back up, shove it in the hiding spot he had found it in, and just pretend this never happened. Rick would more than likely never know he found it and Morty could avoid whatever sick backlash the older man would unleash on him. It was by far the easiest and safest option. But an overwhelming sense of curiosity trickled throughout his body, begging to be satiated.

Morty had seen Rick’s room of ‘mind blowers.’ They had been down that road many times, even more than he remembered if Summer’s drunken rants were anything to go by. Watching his stolen memories more often than not lead to a bad time for everyone around. Yet, Morty couldn’t bring himself to close the box. Morty had seen Rick’s ‘not color coded’ tubes and none of them looked like the one in front of him. A pale shade of pink glowed in the dim light of Rick’s bedroom, beckoning to Morty. He had never seen the color on any of the tubes before and didn’t know what to make of it. On one hand, Morty had only seen his own memories stored for safekeeping. He knew Rick had taken memories from his family before, both willingly and not, but the Scientist never kept them. Or at least Morty had never found them. There had been a terribly old fashioned version of Morty’s mind blowers made for Jerry, but all of those memories had been fabricated. Most of them had been embarrassing and uncomfortable with a few getting downright disturbing and Rick had laughed for days when Jerry cried thinking they had all been real. Most of the time Morty could care less about Rick pranking his Father, but this one had been just a little too much for Morty. They argued for a full day before Rick promised to stop making fake memories to mess with the family since Morty wanted to be a ‘whiny little brat’ about the whole thing.

The thought that this tube was a memory of his sat heavy on his mind as he contemplated the other option. Maybe it was Rick’s. After all, it had been so deeply concealed in his bedroom that Morty never would’ve found it if he wasn’t such a clumsy idiot sometimes. Why would Rick go through all that trouble to hide a memory that wasn’t his? Maybe it was something so embarrassing or traumatic that Rick snatched it from his own head to get some peace and quiet from his own screaming mind. But why would he keep something that bad? Rick had seen terrible things and as far as Morty knew, never made himself forget. 

Or perhaps it was a memory of Grandma or Unity or even some other unnamed Lover from Rick’s past. Time and time again Rick had said Love doesn’t exist and was nothing but a chemical reaction in the brain. But he knew those were the words of a heartbroken man that was only trying to save Morty from the same fate. It was sad and sweet all at the same time, but not enough for Morty to stop feeling all those emotions that made his tummy flutter and his head ache from overthinking things. If Rick had been heartbroken enough to remove the memory, then Morty couldn’t bring himself to watch it. Even for him that would be crossing a boundary.

Still… the ever looming thought of this being one of his own memories buried within Rick’s bedroom kept tickling at his mind. What could Morty possibly remember that Rick not only took it, but saved it in a place the boy would never find? He couldn’t even think of a scenario that was in the realm of actual possibility. Therefore, he should just put it back in its place and forget about the whole thing. Except he couldn’t. The more Morty thought about it, the more he needed to see whatever the tube contained, no matter how much trouble he’d be in.

And what better time to watch the memory than when Rick wasn’t even in the house? Morty wasn’t sure where he went or how long he’d be gone, so he was only wasting time by trying to put off the inevitable. He was going to watch the memory one way or another, he could feel it in his gut. If he couldn’t stand the memory in the tube, he could always ask Rick to remove it again and deal with the consequences for snooping after.

The glowing tube nearly slipped out of his hand with the amount of sweat that had built up in his palms. His heart thudded so loudly in his own ears that Morty probably wouldn’t even hear Rick’s footsteps approaching if the man came home, which only served to make his heart beat faster. He was terrified and with good reason. Rick was known for his cruel and unusual punishments for lesser things. Morty didn’t want to know what the man would do to him for snooping around in his bedroom. Especially if this memory turned out to be one of Rick’s.

But even the fear coursing through his veins wasn’t enough ot keep Morty from barrelling into the mind blower room at full speed and locking the door behind him. Not that a door would stop Rick, but it gave him comfort regardless. This was one of the last places Rick would look for him, so hopefully Morty would be done long before the man even returned home. Morty wasn’t usually that lucky, but a little hope couldn’t hurt.

He sat down in the chair, unable to let his body relax. Morty was doing something bad, and while hanging out with Rick hd caused him to do a lot of terrible things, Morty still only liked doing that stuff when he was with Rick. When he was on his own, it made him feel better to be as morally decent as possible. And looking through someones private belongings without their permission wasn’t decent. Even if that someone was Rick. But maybe the ‘Rick’ factor was the only reason Morty was actually doing this. He just couldn’t get over the fact that this memory might be his and didn’t like that Rick was hiding it. If Rick kept all of Morty’s worst fuck ups out in the open, then what was worth hiding to him? Or maybe it was the best piece of blackmail Morty could hang over Rick’s head. Either way, his stomach dropped as he placed the tube into the slot of his helmet.


	2. The birth

The entire world spun as Morty opened his eyes through the memory. Everything looked different, blurry. He couldn’t focus on anything except the shrill cry of a baby. Oh. The baby was him. He was passed from a Doctor to a woman. His Mother. Morty ignored the overwhelming aversion he felt at both seeing and resting on his Mother’s bare breasts and chose to focus on the other feeling invading his brain. Love. It had been so long since his Mother held him like this, in fact he couldn’t even remember the last time they hugged without her being too drunk to notice if it was him, Summer, or their old dog within her grasp. Now peace and comfort and an overwhelming sense of pure Love flooded his veins. It was a strange feeling, considering it was Baby Morty feeling it, and therefore the tube was pulsing those second hand emotions through his veins. Either way, it felt real enough that Morty knew he was crying, even as his younger self stopped.

The sounds of talking invaded his mind, though Morty couldn’t entirely pick up what they were saying. Either babies had really shitty hearing, or there was just that much commotion going on around that Morty couldn’t make out the sounds of anything. And then a familiar voice.

“Beth, honey, I-I-I’m sorry I missed this.” Rick’s voice cut through the sound, leaving Morty shocked and confused. He didn’t know Rick had shown up to see him be born. Had he done the same for Summer? “I came as fast as I could. D-don’t worry, I’m planning a portal gun. I can be anywhere within seconds. I-I’ll never be late for this again. But please don’t have anymore kids with Jerry.”

Morty could’ve laughed if his baby self had any idea what was going on. Rick had always hated Jerry and probably always would. He had ruined Beth’s chances at becoming a ‘real’ surgeon, strapped her into a life she never wanted, and proceeded to suck her dry of every good emotion she had. Morty knew they loved each other at some point, but now there was too much resentment floating between the pair. They tried to make it work for Summer and Morty, but he silently prayed for the day when they would actually go through with a divorce. He just wanted them to be happy, and as long as they were together, Morty didn’t see that ever really happening.

“Dad, it’s fine. I’ve done this before, it isn’t that hard. Besides, not having Jerry here stressing and crying helped so much that I didn’t even notice I was alone.” Beth’s voice resonated deep within Morty. Being tiny and on someones chest was strange. Hands were on his small naked body, and Morty was being lifted in the air. Still not being able to focus on anything, Morty’s world spun again as he was carried across the room and manhandled into a bath. Hands on him, touching, poking, making him squirm with discomfort. Morty knew now that they must be measuring him and weighing him, or whatever else they do to newborns. But back then he was alone and scared, and it was no wonder he started screaming his head off again.

“Got a set of lungs on him. R-reminds me of you, Beth. You were always screaming.” Rick’s soft chuckle washed across Morty’s face, and he couldn't remember how he got in the mans arms. Opening his blurry baby eyes, he could just make out Rick’s face. Morty remembered reading somewhere that babies could only see so far in front of their faces, and Rick must’ve been just within that range, because he could sort of make out his features.

Rick was much younger, and it showed. His face was softer and less wrinkled. His hair was much thicker, and pushed back in an almost stylish way. A light hint of facial hair covered his chin, and Morty saw one of his own fat little baby hands come up to touch it. Rick’s face remained passive, but Morty could see a change in his eyes. They sparkled brilliantly in a way Morty had never seen before.

“Aw, Dad, he likes you.” Beth sounded near tears, and Morty figured she probably was. He wasn’t sure on all the details of Rick and Beth’s relationship, but he knew the man wasn’t around nearly enough. Which is why it was so surprising to see him there now.

“Yeah, b-big surprise. Babies love me.” Rick said with confidence. Morty couldn’t confirm or deny the statement. He had never even seen Rick around a baby before. “Beth, I don’t want to sound like a downer right now but h-h-he looks a lot like Jerry.”

“Well, Jerry is his father.”

“Man, I was kind of hoping he wasn’t.”

“Dad!” Beth sounded scandalized at the implication, but not angry. It had taken a long time for Beth to be angry at Rick’s words.

“I-I’m joking, honey.” Rick stared down at the baby in his arms, and even through Morty’s baby eyes he could practically see the wheels turning in Rick’s head. “So what are you naming him?”

“Mortimer.”

“What?” Rick’s thick brow furrowed in distaste. The resulting face was so funny that Morty wished he could get a picture of the moment to keep.

“It’s a family name.” Beth said, then once Rick glared at her she added, “Jerry’s family is still family.”

“So you named him Mortimer? Beth, he already looks like Jerry. Y-you can’t set him up for this kind of failure in life.” A long pause made Morty wish his baby self would look over at his Mother. But he wasn’t in control of this memory anymore than he would be in control of a nightmare. So he just sat staring up at Rick’s face, noticing the way it softened from distaste to something a little more mellow. “Don’t cry, Beth. I take it back. So he has the name of an old Jewish comedy writer. It builds character. I’m sure he’ll do great things in life. Wont you, Morty?”

Instead of answering, as if a freshly newborn baby could, Morty just closed his eyes in response. The last thing he felt before drifting off to sleep was just how safe he felt as Rick’s grip tightened around him.


	3. The portal

The scene skipped to a white room with wooden bars. Morty found it odd, because this was clearly another, separate memory. And as far as he could tell, it was always one memory per tube. But now he was in a crib in a room he didn’t recognize. A mobile spun above his head, absolutely paralyzing his tiny baby body. Maybe it was some strange baby reflex, but Morty saw it as a threat, and he wasn't quite sure why. A flash of green to his left caught his attention enough for his baby brain to bypass the ingrained terror he felt long enough to look.

A figure stepped through the swirling green blob, and while Morty could tell his eyes had gotten significantly better, it still took until the man loomed over his crib to recognize him as Rick. Morty cooed in delight as two strong hands reached down and grabbed him. Terror mobile long forgotten, Morty wrapped two of his fat little baby hands around the collar of Rick’s lab coat and squealed at him.Of course it was before Morty learned to talk, or what words even meant, but he could feel the overwhelming sensation of happiness.

“Shhh, little buddy. You don’t want Jerry waking up from his nap, do you?” Rick’s voice was light, but happy. He had never been that peppy with Morty in recent memory, and the boy couldn’t help but wonder what changed. All he knew that in the moment he was happy to see Rick, and surprisingly enough, Rick was happy to see him, too. “I-I can’t believe Beth left you with him in the first place. What if I was some monster coming to steal you away?”

Rick smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. There was something there Morty didn’t like, but he couldn’t tell what it was now anymore than he could when he was a baby. Yet, baby Morty held no unease and kept babbling at Rick, grabbing at anything he could reach. With two fists in Rick’s wild hair, the older man just rolled his eyes as he paced the room with Morty.

A loud scream snapped them both out of the moment and Morty caught enough of a glimpse of red hair to know it was Summer. She was crying, Morty was crying, and Rick was planting a soft kiss to his forehead before placing him back in the crib. He ran a hand through the pathetic whisps of hair on Morty’s head before disappearing through another green swirl. He could hear Summer screeching to his Father in the next room, though he couldn’t make out the words over his own wailing. Rick was gone again and there was nothing he could do about it.

The next scene happened in the same room and much in the same manner. Only this time, instead of being a placid pawn in that evil baby mobile’s plan, Morty was grunting in frustration and kicking his legs. The overwhelming feeling of overtiredness radiated through him, and Morty couldn’t help but be confused. Who knew babies felt such raw, unfiltered emotions. The green swirl to his left caught his attention, and this time Morty knew it was Rick. He was beginning to associate the green light with Rick, and as happy as he was to see him, Morty still wanted to sleep.

The older man watched Morty’s pathetic attempts at anger and it made him smile. Morty never understood why tired babies didn’t just fall asleep, but then again, everything about babies was foreign to him. All he knew was that one minute he was upset, and the next he was in Heaven. Warm arms wrapped tightly around him as Rick set a slow pace of rocking his body back and forth. It was the single most soothing and peaceful thing Morty could think of and it made him wonder if all babies felt this way. Then, a soft little hum made Morty crack his eyes open. An unfamiliar melody emanated from Rick’s throat as he hummed a tune. Morty could barely keep his eyes open long enough to look at the man gently rocking him to sleep. The sound was just barely there, in order to keep the other members of the house from hearing it, but it was just the right thing to calm Morty’s restlessness. He didn’t know why Rick was sneaking into the house to see him, but he couldn’t dwell on it too long. The pull of the memory was too strong to start forming outside opinions on it. He would consider the implications of it all after, but for now he would curl up into Rick and sleep.


	4. The stairs

Morty’s bare feet stomped on the ground as he tore through the house. Each step was uncertain, but Morty was full of a near Rick-level confidence. He hadn’t been that sure of himself before or since, but it didn’t matter. The sounds of yelling from the other room echoed through the house, and he couldn’t care less. He could tell this was his first time walking on his own, and couldn’t help but be upset that Beth and Jerry were too busy arguing to see it. However, baby Morty saw walkings as new and exciting and he was more than ready to explore. Making a beeline straight for the stairs, Morty squealed in delight as a green glow flashed beside him. He spun around, grinning as he put his arms in the air, ready to be picked up.

Each time he saw Rick was a treat in itself. The man didn’t show up often, but when he did, Morty was thrilled. He still didn’t know why Rick was sneaking around to see him, and only him as he pieced together. Summer would scream and cry every time she saw ‘the boogey man’ with baby Morty, who would be gone by the time Beth or Jerry showed up, of course. It was something he would need to ask Rick about later, as well as why the man took the memories in the first place. As far as Morty could tell, all of these memories were good. Great even, as Morty felt his young heart soar when Rick lifted him into his arms.

“H-hey, Morty. How’s my little buddy today? Running straight for trouble, huh, Morty? That’s great. I-I-I’m so proud of you, Morty. It’s like you were born for it.” Rick smiled down at him, and Morty felt conflicting emotions tearing him apart. On one hand, his baby self was over the moon at the way Rick was showering him with affection. A tight squeeze, a kiss on the forehead, and a silly face to make the boy laugh. On the other hand, Morty had never seen Rick so happy in his life. It was heartbreakingly disturbing, and Morty didn’t know what had happened to make him act that way. The years weren’t kind to Rick.

“Listen, I-I can’t always be around to protect you,” Rick told him as they walked back into the living room where Morty had been playing moments before. “There will be plenty of time to get into trouble later. We’ll go on all sorts of adventures, I promise, Morty. So, stay away from the stairs for now.”

Rick lowered himself onto the couch as he shifted Morty into his lap. With one hand he fished for the remote and changed the chanel, with the other he held Morty firmly in place while the boy wriggled around and grabbed at everything within Rick’s inner coat pocket. Morty couldn’t help but notice the differences between this and how he and Rick watched TV now. Of course he was a baby here, but still the moment was laced with a deeper sense of happiness than he normally got from Rick. To an outsider, things would seem normal. To Morty, a pain tore through his chest with Rick’s serenity. Why couldn’t he be like that all the time? Sure, Morty knew Rick had lost a lot while also being utterly shit on by the Universe at every turn, but he just seemed so happy with baby Morty. What had turned that sweet middle aged man into a cranky old bastard around his grandson?

“Ok, Morty. Down you go. Grandpa's gotta run.” Rick plopped a confused Morty on the floor before opening a portal. He waved one last goodbye before stepping through. Within seconds, Beth was storming through the doorway with jerry close on her heals. Morty watched on feeling slightly nostalgic. They both looked so young, and even though they were fighting, they still seemed so much happier than they were now.

“For Christ’s sake, Beth” Jerry grabbed the remote off the couch with such force that in nearly flew right back out of his hand in the opposite direction. “You can’t leave this kind of stuff on the tv. What if the kids see it?”

“I wasn’t even watching the tv, Jerry.” She spewed his name in a similar manner to how Rick usually did. Tears welled up in his eyes, not liking the situation laid out in front of him. Nowadays Morty would just hide in his room, or go for a walk, or see if Rick was up for an adventure when his Parents fought. But back then it was loud and scary and he couldn’t help the panic rising within him.

“Well Morty didn’t change it and Summer’s at a play date. The channel didn’t change itself. Just because your coldhearted machine of a Father let you watch this kind of stuff doesn’t mean you can let Morty do the same. He’ll have nightmares!”

“Don’t you dare talk about my Father!" Beth screamed at him, running her hands through her hair in frustration. "And if Morty has nightmares then I’ll deal with it. It’s not like you ever get up in the middle of the night with him.”

Neither of them noticed as Morty pulled himself up off the floor and padded down the hall in search of the glowing green light. Morty couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. It seemed to him that he had always been running to Rick to get away from his Parents. So why had the man taken this memory in particular from him?


	5. The accident

The scene played out like every other one Morty had watched. As time went on he noticed the pattern of his tiny self looking for Rick whenever something went wrong. Every time without fail Rick would pop in from a swirling green vortex and come to Morty’s aid like some sort of knight in shining armor. Each time it came as a slap in the face to Morty. He had to jump through hoops to get Rick’s help with anything nowadays, why had it been so different back then? Morty knew the answer had to do with the smile on Rick’s face. He had been so happy, so full of love, so willing to help back then. Whatever changed had transformed Rick into a bitter drunken shell of the man he used to be.

Morty watched on in a daze as if knowing this was the final stretch to the tube of stolen memories, though he wasn’t sure why. As far as he could tell it was just like any other day. Summer had left for school, rubbing in the fact that Morty was still too young. Next year, he reminded himself, though his child brain couldn’t really grasp just how long that would be. It felt like an eternity. If only he knew then what he did now about school, Morty would have savored that year with his entire being.

Beth nudged him along beside her, mumbling under her breath about how late she was going to be. She spewed on about how it was bullshit that she had to drop Morty off at daycare and not Jerry. After all his job wasn’t as important as hers was. Little Morty didn’t understand at the time, yet he nodded along to her words despite knowing she wasn’t actually talking to him as much as she was herself. She crammed a hat down on his head, covering his eyes slightly as Jerry walked passed.

He wasn’t exactly sure what started the argument, though Morty’s bets were on Beth. She had already been beyond agitated and ready to blow at the smallest of infractions. All he knew was one minute he was being ushered toward the open door and the next Beth was dropping his hand in favor of verbally tearing Jerry a new one. Even then it was clear Morty had no intentions of dealing with his parents bullshit as the memory only allowed certain key phrases into his mind.

“Well I wouldn’t be running late if you would just let my Father watch him!” Beth stepped forward, practically in Jerry’s face. The argument seemed familiar to little Morty. “I can’t afford to be late, Jerry. We have bills to pay. Lord knows you wont get a real job.”

“I have a real job, Beth. And for the last time, I don’t want your monster of a Father around my son. Morty will get hurt or killed. Or worse, end up as sociopathic as the two of you.”

“Oh your son? He’s my son, too-”

Morty stared at the floor, noting that his shoes were on opposite feet. The pinch in his toes didn’t seem like a good enough reason to interrupt the argument before him. Besides, his parents had expected him to dress himself the right way, he couldn’t ask for help without making things worse. Still, he needed help fixing it. And the best person he knew for help was Rick. Perking up slightly, Morty stared down the hall, slowly spinning around in an attempt to catch the green light he had become so accustomed to. It had become such a routine in his life that Morty was surprised when he couldn’t find the familiar glow.

However, Rick was shifty. It was a fact that Morty knew even as a child. Maybe Rick knew he would get caught if he portaled into the house. With a smile on his face Morty spun toward the still open door and stumbled out. Wide eyes scanned every inch of the yard, looking for green. Green meant Rick. Green meant comfort. Green meant happiness. Green meant love. Morty blocked out the verbal venom being spewed behind him and wandered out further. Of course back then Morty thought nothing of it, however now his blood boiled at the realisation that his parents couldn’t pay attention to him long enough to notice that he was doing something very dangerous. It shouldn’t come as a surprise after watching all the things Rick had saved him from over the years. Chewing on choking hazards, running with scissors, teetering too close to the top of the stairs, grabbing an abandoned steak knife off the kitchen counter, trying to hang something off the wall through a safety pin in an electrical outlet. The opportunities were endless really, and once again Morty found himself wondering why Rick had taken all these memories from him. He was sure this last memory was the missing piece of the puzzle, yet he wasn’t sure he really wanted to see. What could have possibly changed Morty and Rick’s relationship so drastically?

A flash of light from across the street interrupted his train of thought, catching his eye immediately. Morty’s feet were in motion before his brain could catch up. Green. Rick. A giddy feeling welled up inside the small boy from the memory, nearly making Morty sit back and watch contently. But something was wrong. He scanned the scene before him again, wondering what exactly it could be. The light flashed again, catching his attention once more. No swirl, no Rick. With a sense of growing dread Morty watched through his younger self’s eyes as he hurdled toward the street, chasing a flashing green light in the neighbors yard. He couldn’t tell what it was and it hardly mattered at that point. The only thing going through Morty’s head was the sound of a rapidly approaching vehicle.

He tried straining his head in the direction of the noise to no avail. It was only a memory after all, and his past self had no intentions of looking both ways before crossing the street. Sure, it was something they had most likely taught him, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered to Morty in that moment was Rick, and he was barreling headfirst toward him. Or so he thought. Morty willed his feet to stop, yet they wouldn’t. He was trapped in a nightmare, watching the impending disaster happen with no way to stop it from happening.

His tiny feet hit the pavement, running as fast as they could carry him. The sound of squealing tires was enough to finally draw his attention away from the false green beacon and he froze in place, helpless as a blue SUV skidded toward him. He locked eyes with the mortified driver a split second before the car hit him like a brick wall. White hot pain seared through Morty’s body as he was propelled up and over the hood of the vehicle. Vaguely he recognized his own shoe flying through the air in the opposite direction. How did that even happen? The world spun around him as his crushed body came slamming back to the ground, a few feet away. Blood flooded his mouth and lungs. Morty gasped for air, feeling hot liquid trickle down his throat, causing him to cough red speckles through the air.

The sound of Beth and Jerry screeching for him filled the air as a swirling green vortex beamed into existence next to him. Morty tried lifting his hand to wipe to blood pooling into his line of sight to no avail. An unrecognizable noise escaped his lips as his body screamed in pain at the movement. Rick hovered above him seemingly for an eternity in shock before he was throwing himself at the boy. All at once Morty could see the change in his face. Of course he had been too young to recognize it then, mixed with the overwhelming sensation of pain and fear gripping him like a vice. But now Morty could see a raw pain in his eyes that he had never seen there before. He was more reminiscent to the Rick Morty knew today.

“M-M-Morty.” Rick mumbled, is stutter thicker than usual. He grabbed at Morty with shaky hands. Pain flared through his body once more as he was lifted partially into Rick’s lap. The sound of Beth and Jerry was present in the background, but Morty ignored it. All that mattered was the pain, and how being in Rick’s arms seemed to help with that, even if only a little. “You’re g-gunna be fine, Morty. I Promise.”

Morty frowned to himself as he watched the scene through his younger self’s eyes. Rick never promised anything, no matter how small, never mind something as big as this. Morty was no genius, but even he could tell his body had suffered irreversible damage. He said nothing, struggling to watch through slowly closing eyes. Rick fumbled around in his lab coat pocket, pulling out a device Morty recognized. It was to steal his memories. But why? Why wasn’t Rick fixing him instead? He struggled to breathe, unable to calm down as he stared into Rick’s watering eyes. A blinding flash of light washed over him, and then everything went dark.


	6. The truth

Morty sat back, reeling. He had seen so much, too much really, and not a single thing made any sense. Rubbing at his eyes, he glanced to the clock on the wall. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Morty realized he had been down there for hours. Was Rick home yet? Worse, did Rick know what he was doing? With shaky hands he removed the pink tube from his helmet and shoved it into his pocket. Perhaps he could still hide what he had done from Rick, though he doubted it. His heart dropped into his stomach when he opened the unlocked door. Morty knew for sure he had locked it on the way in.

Unsteady feet lead him upstairs. Morty made a beeline straight for Rick’s room, praying to whatever was out there that he could avoid Rick for just a little bit longer. Maybe if he could put the vial back without getting caught he could just try and lie his way out of it. Of course someone had walked in on him in the mind blower room for sure, but maybe it had been Summer. He couldn’t think of a good reason for her to be down there at all, but that didn’t mean it was impossible. But when was Morty ever that lucky? Steeling himself, he opened the door to Rick’s room freezing at what he saw inside.

Rick sat perched on his bed, staring down at the tiny box in his hands. It was the box Morty found the pink tube in. For an eternity neither of them moved, anxiety welling up within him with each passing second. Rick didn’t acknowledge that he was no longer alone and Morty was too deep into an internal breakdown to move. Frozen in place, he willed his feet to turn around and run. The fact that Rick hadn’t started yelling was a fluke and he knew it wouldn’t last long.

Summoning all the strength he could muster Morty reached into his pocket for the tube and took a few tiny steps forward. He gently placed it in the box Rick held, watching the way his own hands shook in fear and shame. This was clearly a private memory, though one of his own. Morty wasn’t sure whether to run before Rick exploded at him or start yelling at his Grandpa for stealing more of his memories. The simple fat that Rick had yet to say something either way had Morty feeling even more conflicted.

“R-R-Rick, I-” Morty started only to be cut off by Rick’s gruff voice.

“Did you watch the whole thing?” The older man asked, still looking down. It was unnerving just how deflated the man seemed at all of it.

“Yeah.” Morty confirmed. They were his memories after all, there should be nothing to feel bad about. So why did it feel like he was admitting to a crime?

Rick adjusted to tube to slide back into the fitted slot of its container before closing the lid. He stood up, still not looking in Morty’s direction and walked to the other corner of the room to place the box near where Morty had found it. The tension grew exponentially with the silence. Shame quickly turned to rage the longer Morty mulled things over.

“W-what the Hell, Rick? What was that memory?” Morty gestured his arms slightly, distracting himself from the seriousness of the situation. They had had this conversation before and Morty was getting tired of it. “I thought you weren’t going to do that anymore? Sure i-it wasn’t specifically mentioned that you had to give back my childhood memories, but it should have been implied.”

“They’re not your memories.” Rick told him, voice sounding strange. He still wouldn’t look at Morty, which did little to calm the brunettes nerves.

“N-not my memories? Who else would they belong to, Rick?” Morty frowned at the man, not sure at what he was playing at. Even for Rick such a blatant lie was a weak defense. “That was my Mom and my Dad and Summer and y-y-you. Why would you- what are you getting at?”

“They’re not yours. They belong to my original Morty.” Rick’s shoulders hunched slightly.

“You mean- wait. So, I’m a replacement Morty?” He asked, shocked at the news. A million thoughts raced into his head all at once. “T-t-that version of me died? You’re not my original Rick? W-what the Hell? When were you going to tell me?

“I wasn’t.” Rick said, a firm edge to his voice. 

“You weren’t going to tell me?” Morty’s voice cracked with disbelief. “F-Fuck you Rick. I have every right to know. What happened to my original Rick? Does Mom know? You know, I shouldn’t have expected anything else out of you. This is like the free Morty voucher all over again. L-Lose a Morty, get a Morty. It’s sick. You’re sick.”

“What you- you think I wanted this?” Rick’s voice rose, warning Morty of the impending argument on the horizon. At the moment Morty could care less. He was feeling way too much to try and diffuse the situation.

“I think you don’t care, Rick. You don’t care about anyone. Not me, not that other Morty.” Morty retorted. Rick didn’t care about anyone, not even himself most of the time.

“20% accurate as usual, M-Morty.” Rick spun around, glaring at the smaller boy. Morty felt his body shrink in on himself despite doing his best to stand tall. “The only Morty I ever cared about is dead. You’re just the first Morty I could find who’s Rick never cared about you while he was alive and died just in time for me to take his place.”

“F-f-fuck you, Rick.” White hot tears pricked at Morty’s eyes as the gravity of Rick’s words hit him like a truck. The ever present feeling of inadequacy overwhelmed Morty to his core. He felt sick. There was little else in the world that compared to being told you weren’t good enough by someone you held in such high regards. The only thing worse was being compared to a dead version of yourself and coming out as the loser.

“Oh boo-hoo, M-Morty. Did I hurt your feelings?” Rick sneered at him as he dug around for his flask. “Next time mind your own damn business. Don’t stick your nose where- where it doesn’t belong.”

The urge to argue shriveled up in his chest and died. There was nothing Morty could say, nothing he wanted to say to Rick. A raw pain tore through him like fire. With one last glance at Rick’s hardened face through tear filled lashes, Morty spun on his heels and ran from the room.


End file.
